There was a voice burning in the desert.
A promise.
And today my people build tabernacles
in a foreign land
and glance through their roofs
at the stars,
dust in their faces, their beards,
their fists.
Where is Messiah? A stone of stumbling to my people.

There is a land flooded in war.
A promise?
The shadows of the night are deepening,
and the tears of my people cover the land
in which my love is rooted. What heroes are these on this battlefield?
People longing for a home.

There is a first-born Son weeping on the hillside.
My people, can you no longer recognize
your Father’s house?